In me there were twenty generations
To say the least
And this morning, I can\'t tell why,
Maybe as the window was open,
One jumped from the ledge.
Then, all of them
Started throwing
Looking out of the window has become a habit,
Everybody looks out of the window.
They read, wash, love, die
And, now and then, they make a dash for it
And look out of the window.
What do you
A time comes
When we must draw, beneath ourselves
A black line
And do the maths.
A couple of moments when we fell just short of being happy,
A couple of moments when we fell just short of